A homeless and poor Brandon offers his last $2 to an elderly man in need at the gas station store and inherits his company the next day. Brandon thinks this is the start of a new life for his family.
Brandon clutched his paper cup with change as he shuffled into the gas station store. He was near an aisle when a loud voice distracted him. He saw a queue of angry shoppers waiting behind an elderly man who had difficulty hearing.
“I’m sorry, what did you say about the water being funny?” the elderly man asked the cashier.
“Money!” she groaned. “I said you don’t have enough money, sir!”
“Yes, it was a sunny day!” replied the man with a frown.
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“You need more cash! For the water!” A younger guy standing behind the man grabbed him by the shoulder and yelled into his ears.
Brandon noticed everything. He was tempted to step in, but he didn’t want to attract the shoppers’ ire. Meanwhile, the elderly man explained he didn’t have enough cash, asking if he could get a smaller bottle of water as he needed to take his pills.
“If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” shouted the cashier.
“I can go?” He smiled and turned to leave, but the cashier snatched the water bottle from his hand. “Just get out, old man!” she hissed. “You’re way too much trouble!”
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The elderly man requested that he needed to take his pills, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Brandon had had enough. He marched to the cashier and offered to pay for the old guy.
“Have a heart, lady,” he said and emptied his cup on the counter. The woman looked at him in distaste before she counted the money.
“That’ll cover it,” she said, taking all the money, including his last $2. “Now step aside. You’re holding the line.”
Brandon abandoned his can of beans on the counter as he offered the water to the older man.
“Here you go, sir. I got you water,” he spoke slowly and clearly, ensuring the man could see his face if he needed to lip-read. And the man thanked him. They left the store together, and Brandon headed to his tent on the bare patch of ground adjacent to the station, but the man stopped him.
“Wait!”
Brandon turned around.
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“Why did you help me when you obviously needed the money?” asked the older man.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, sir,” said Brandon, “it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other.”
“But what are your kids going to eat? You left the beans on the counter.”
“We have the last of yesterday’s bread,” Brandon replied. “We’ll get by.”
The man walked away but with a frown. Brandon noticed he got in a gleaming SUV and wondered why a man like him couldn’t afford a bottle of water.
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The next day, while Brandon was dividing cold fries among his kids, a silver sedan pulled up near his tent. A man in a fancy suit approached.
“Morning, sir. Mr. Grives’s last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said, extending an envelope.
Brandon wiped his hands and took it. There was a letter inside.
“Dear sir,
Yesterday, you proved yourself to be a man of good character when you spent your last few dollars for me. Your kindness and belief in doing good for others have inspired me to repay your goodness with the greatest gift I can give you: my business.
My time in this world is coming to an end. I have recently become apprehensive about leaving my company to my son, as I’ve come to see that he is a selfish man with a heart of stone. It would greatly ease my conscience if you inherited the company instead. All I ask is that you ensure my son is taken care of and can continue to live a safe, comfortable life.”
“Is this a joke?” Brandon looked up at the man.
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The man produced a stack of printed papers and a pen. “Mr. Grives was quite serious. And the moment you sign these papers, it’ll be official.”
“But I just met the guy yesterday. And now he’s dead and leaving me everything?” Brandon asked as he studied the documents.
“I understand your concerns, sir, but these papers were drawn by the finest lawyers. All we need to do is fill in your name, and the lawyers will proceed with the rest.”
This was his chance to provide his kids, so Brandon signed it. Then, the man drove him and the children to their new home.
As they arrived, Brandon stared up at the massive mansion.
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Brandon could barely believe it himself. But the moment he pushed the double doors open, he sensed something was wrong. The house was a mess—a table lay on its side in the hallway, and a closet had been toppled over.
Brandon dumped the luggage, ran after the car, and told the driver to call 911. A few hours later, he stood among slashed sofas and broken furniture, speaking to the cops.
“We’ve examined the entire house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer said. “This, combined with the fact that the security system appears to have been overridden using the correct code, suggests that whoever vandalized this place had a legitimate means of gaining entry.”
“Like a key? So, the person who did this just walked in here?”
“I’d suggest you change the locks, sir,” the officer nodded.
As the cops left, Brandon suspected the elderly man’s son.
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The next day, Mr. Grives’s secretary arrived early. She took Brandon shopping and got him cleaned up at a barber before taking him to the company. In the office that once belonged to Mr. Grives, Brandon was about to go through the files on the computer when the doors burst open.
“You must be Brandon!” A middle-aged man in a dark suit entered the office. “I’m Christopher, one of Mr. Grives’s former business partners, and I’m here to save you from a whole heap of trouble.”
“I’m sorry?” Brandon asked.
Christopher explained he handled the sales for one of Mr. Grives’s ‘specific’ businesses. Brandon quickly understood it was something illegal. He refused to continue it, but Christopher was having none of it.
“Listen up, you moron! Grives owed me $2 million for handling the illicit side of his business! You’re now responsible for that,” he snarled. “And if you don’t pay up, I’ll go to the police and tell them everything. Furthermore, as the company’s owner, you will be liable for all damages. So, I’ll be expecting my $2 million by Saturday.”
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“What? This is extortion! You can’t be serious!” Brandon retorted.
“Yes, it is. And just in case you think I’m not deadly serious…” Christopher pushed back his suit jacket and placed his hand on the butt of a gun holstered at his side. “…rest assured that if you cross me, Brandon, I’ll make you disappear.”
Brandon said nothing and agreed to Christopher’s demands. But he wondered if Christopher was scamming him. So Brandon searched for any hints of this illicit side of the business.
By that evening, after reviewing the data from all the other departments, Brandon was convinced Christopher was lying. But then, he noticed the filing cabinet tucked into a corner of the room. Brandon unlocked it with the keys he’d found earlier on his desk. And the first thing he noticed was an old-fashioned file box tucked into the drawer.
Inside it was a ledger with entries written in some kind of shorthand, and Brandon realized Christopher wasn’t lying. In despair, he opened a drawer to find some bottles of scotch handy, and found nothing but a photo.
It showed Mr. Grives standing with…a younger guy. Brandon’s eyes bulged in horror when he realized how similar they looked. The young man was Christopher, Mr. Grives’s son!
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Things started making sense to Brandon. He couldn’t believe a kind man like Mr. Grives would be involved in illegal business practices. So, most likely, Christopher was using his own shady dealing to blackmail him, Brandon reasoned.
A stroke of luck and a terrible twist that threatened to take it all away – everything was happening way too fast. Luckily, Brandon was not unfamiliar with the whirlwinds of the business world.
That Saturday, Brandon met Christopher in the underground parking lot but with a counteroffer.
“I’ve got to keep my word to your old man,” Brandon said, “so I’ll give you 49 percent of the company while I keep the remaining 51 percent. That’ll be enough for you to live lavishly, right? And I’ll reserve the right to manage the company like your father wanted.”
But Christopher refused. “I’m not a fool! I deserved all of it, not some token! Let’s talk when you come to your senses!” he hissed and left.
Brandon went back to the office. He decided to pay Christopher his $2 million and be done with this but found the company’s money was tied up in assets or allocated to monthly expenses. Brandon was helpless.
He returned home, dejected, where another trouble awaited him. As he opened the front door, he found his kids’ nanny tied to a chair and gagged.
“He took the kids! He said to tell you that this should be your wake-up call!” she cried as he freed her, and Brandon knew who she was talking about.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Brandon called Christopher and agreed to hand over the company, begging him not to hurt the children. They decided to meet at noon. But Brandon also called the police, and in the next half an hour, he was sitting with an FBI agent.
“Just follow my instructions, and we’ll have your kids back…” Agent Bates assured him.
That noon, Christopher was chilling by the poolside of a hotel he’d rented out. He’d locked Brandon’s kids in a closet and dismissed all hotel staff except the manager, whom he had paid handsomely.
“Excuse me, sir,” the manager interrupted him. “You have a package.”
When Christopher checked the envelope, he grinned. He strode to his room and signed the paperwork he found inside the envelope. The company was finally his! Then, he freed Brandon’s children. “I’m sure a bunch of ragamuffins like you four can find your way. Now, get lost!”
]Christopher finished getting ready. Suddenly, he heard a click behind him. Although soft, Christopher instantly recognized the sound of a gun’s safety selector.
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“FBI! Put your hands in the air! You’re under arrest.”
Meanwhile, Brandon held his children close on the sidewalk. Thanks to Agent Bates’s idea of putting a tracker in the documents, Christopher was caught.
Brandon took the children home, ready to make everything right. And when the FBI’s fraud division showed up with a warrant, he handed over the evidence—the copy of the company’s records and the ledger he’d found in his office—to the agents, knowing that by the time the investigation was over, he wouldn’t have a penny to his name. But he’d be free.
“Daddy, are we going to leave our home…just when Mommy died?” Kelly asked him.
Brandon got down on one knee and hugged his kids.
“Listen, you four, we’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”
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Kids looked at him earnestly and nodded.
“It’s because the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”
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My Husband Left Me and Our Toddler in Economy Class and Went to Business Himself – He Regretted It So Much in a Few Days
When Claire, John, and their son, Ethan, board a flight to John’s parents, John mysteriously disappears to Business Class, leaving Claire to tackle the flight with the baby alone. But when they get to their destination, Claire’s father-in-law teaches John a lesson that he won’t forget.
About a week ago, my father-in-law really showed my husband that despite being married and having a son, he still had a lot to learn.
A couple with their toddler | Source: Midjourney
My husband, John, and I were gearing up for the long-awaited trip to his parents with our energetic two-year-old son, Ethan. John had been particularly stressed with work and kept going on about how much he needed a break.
“Claire, I can’t wait to finally relax,” John said as we packed our bags. “I just need some peace and quiet, you know?”
I smiled, though I was preoccupied with packing Ethan’s toys.
“I know, John. We all need a break. But it’ll be fun for Ethan to see his grandparents and be spoilt with their love for a bit.”
Little did I know, my husband had rather selfish plans in mind.
A woman packing suitcases | Source: Midjourney
At the airport, I was busy wrangling our toddler and managing the luggage while still trying to open a container of applesauce for Ethan. John mysteriously vanished.
“What the heck?” I muttered to myself, thinking that he probably went to the bathroom before we boarded.
Later, I spotted him again at the gate, looking unusually calm.
“Where have you been?” I asked, balancing Ethan on my hip.
“Just taking care of something,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “And I needed to grab a pair of headphones.”
A woman holding a toddler | Source: Midjourney
“Did you get me a pair?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d need one because you’d have to worry about Ethan.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Who was this man?
But that wasn’t all.
As we boarded, John handed me our boarding passes, with his looking different from ours.
“John, why do you have a business class ticket?” I asked, feeling crushed.
A boarding gate | Source: Unsplash
My husband shrugged nonchalantly.
“I can’t deal with you and the kid right now. I need some peace and quiet for once. We’re going to be dealing with a lot of family from this evening.”
I bit back my anger for the duration of the flight. I didn’t have any other option but the thought of John reclining with a glass of champagne while Ethan pulled on my hair and fussed throughout.
A man drinking on a flight | Source: Midjourney
“Try patting him on the back,” the woman next to me suggested. “Maybe that will calm him down.”
I smiled at her, not wanting to growl because my son had driven my patience to almost nonexistent.
“Thank you,” I replied as Ethan reached out a sticky hand to swat the woman’s hair.
It was one of the longest flights of my life, and by the time we arrived, my frustration had morphed into cold fury.
Of course, John was oblivious to my mood as we headed to his parents’ place.
“It’s so wonderful to see you! How was the flight?” John’s mother, Amy, said, taking Ethan from my arms.
An opened front door | Source: Unsplash
I forced a smile.
“It was fine, Mrs. Smith,” I said. “Ethan was a bit restless, but we managed.”
John’s father, Jacob, eyed us keenly.
“And you, John?” he asked. “How was your flight?”
John grinned, completely missing the tension that was filling up the room.
“Oh, it was fantastic! Business class is really something else. I see why everyone opts for it if they can.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
My father-in-law’s expression hardened slightly, but he remained silent.
The next day, we were all supposed to go out for a family dinner.
“It’s just tradition for us to go to the restaurant when family is over,” Amy said as she played with Ethan. “Dress warm, Claire, it’s been getting a nippy at night.”
An older woman playing with a toddler | Source: Midjourney
Just as we were getting ready to leave, Mr. Smith called John into his study.
“John, your mother and I will take care of Claire and Ethan tonight. You, however, will stay here and prepare the house for the rest of the guests. Your brother will be here in the morning. The beds have to be made up,” Jacob said firmly.
My husband was taken aback.
“But it’s our family dinner, Dad,” John said. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Tonight, you’ll understand what it feels like to be left behind,” Jacob continued.
A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney
John tried to argue, but Mr. Smith wouldn’t budge at all. We left for dinner, and John had no choice but to stay behind and sort the house out for the rest of his family.
When we returned, the house was spotless, and John was fuming but silent.
“Oh, but that’s not all,” Jacob said to me as I headed upstairs to put Ethan down later that night.
“What do you mean?” I asked nervously.
“You’ll see tomorrow,” he said, smiling, as he walked to his bedroom.
A smiling man wearing a nightgown | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, as we sat down to breakfast, my father-in-law sat John down with a detailed list of chores that he needed to do.
“Cleaning the garage? Really, Dad? And fixing the fence? Mowing the lawn?” John complained. “Why are you doing this? Usually, you hire people for this.”
Mr. Smith’s gaze was unwavering.
“You need to learn the value of family and hard work. You don’t get to escape your responsibilities because you feel like it or because there’s an easy way out. You will spend the rest of the week making up for what you did to Claire and Ethan.”
John looked shocked, finally realizing that his business class escape came with consequences.
A man standing in a shed | Source: Midjourney
He spent the rest of the week maintaining the entire property. And each evening, his work was checked by his father, ensuring that it was done right.
“I am exhausted,” he said one evening as he flopped onto the bed. “And I really wanted to go strawberry picking with you, Ethan, and my mom today. But I had to paint the fence.”
I almost felt sorry for him. But not enough to take the bait. I knew that during his time cleaning and mending around the house, he had plenty of time to reflect on his actions.
A toddler at a strawberry patch | Source: Midjourney
The day before we were set to leave, my husband came to me, his eyes filled with remorse.
“I’m so sorry for everything,” he said quietly. “I understand now how hard it is and how much I took you for granted.”
“It’s not just about understanding, John. It’s about being there, every step of the way,” I said, folding our clothes.
He promised to be better, and I believed that he was sincere.
But it seemed that my father-in-law had one more card to play.
A woman packing clothes | Source: Pexels
“Your business class ticket for the return flight has been canceled and exchanged for an economy seat. But Claire and Ethan will travel in business class. You can manage on your own this time, John,” he said.
My husband’s face dropped as he realized the implications of his father’s swap. He tried to protest, but Mr. Smith was adamant, stressing that John needed to understand the value of family and empathy through firsthand experience.
A close-up of an older man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry,” John said when we got to the airport. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I just wanted a moment of peace. Work has been a lot.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, holding onto Ethan. “But things have to change when we get home. Okay, John?”
He nodded slowly and kissed my forehead before we had to separate and board the flight.
A couple with a toddler at the airport | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
Am I Wrong for Spending My Son’s University Fund on a Trip to Europe?
Imagine losing your everything, then defying the world to honor their memory. That’s where this story starts. My son, a dream tragically shattered, and a trip to Europe that took an unexpected turn — a turn that revealed the true depths of grief and love. Let me tell you about it.
A mother-son duo sitting on a couch and using a laptop | Source: Pexels
My son, Lucas, has always been a brilliant kid — way smarter than me. I used to joke about getting a paternity test because he was so intelligent. Ever since he was little, Lucas had this spark, this insatiable curiosity that set him apart.
I set up an education fund for him, which he could use for anything as long as he pursued post-secondary education. That fund was my way of ensuring he had every opportunity to chase his dreams, whatever they might be.
A man carrying his little boy on his shoulders | Source: Pexels
Lucas was around 12 when Lisa and I divorced. It wasn’t an easy time for us, but we managed to keep things amicable for Lucas’ sake. Lisa remarried when Lucas was 14. Her new husband, Matt, seemed like a decent guy, and Lucas got along with him well enough.
I found love again too, and remarried Melissa when Lucas turned 16. She was great with Lucas, always supportive and kind, which made the transition smoother. Despite the changes in our family dynamics, Lucas and I stayed close. We had this running joke about his education fund.
A father and son posing together | Source: Pexels
I always told him, “You know, Lucas, if you decide not to go to university, I could use that money to travel to Europe and have the time of my life.”
He’d laugh and play along, never letting me get under his skin. “Don’t worry, Dad,” he’d say, “I’ll make sure you get to Europe someday, even if it’s with my degree money.”
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